The Evening Star
“She knew there was nothing to be gained from her infatuation with Jerry Bruckner, and yet she was also painfully aware that she was infatuated with him, even though she suspected that he was a rather empty man. He just happened to be a really appealing empty man, of the sort she had been too frequently drawn to in her life. Trevor, her yachtsman, had been just such an empty man, sailing, marrying, and seducing, to no purpose, his whole life, and yet she had loved Trevor, believing to the end th...at if circumstances could be budged a little she could fill him out, or up, and make him into a more or less substantial person.All she really knew about Jerry Bruckner was that he had sad brown eyes and a perfect lower lip; also the hairs on his wrists had an exciting effect on her. He had obviously read a great many books on psychoanalysis, while remaining in most respects a slightly untidy innocent who seemed to know little about life—the sort of person who made a sex life of waitresses and airline stewardesses—not that there was anything wrong with waitresses and airline stewardesses.MoreLess
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